L's a Guitar Hero?
by kitkat411
Summary: Misa, Light, and L in a place you'd never expect, doing things you'd never expect them to be doing. Filled with heights, dentists, pants that don't match, and other things they hate.
1. Chapter 1

The Soon-to-be-Named Story

By: KitKat411

The "best detective in the world,"-as he was known, anyway-stared out the window and attempted to count the clouds as they passed by his window. At over twenty thousand feet above the ground, it wasn't very difficult for said detective-known as "Ryuuzaki" or "L" to his peers-to note the clouds as they passed.

Besides, he had nothing better to do, anyway. It was either count clouds or think about being twenty thousand feet above the safe ground. Clouds or falling twenty thousand feet, pulled by the Earth's gravitational pull, and crashing. He had hypostasized that the latter option would make him sick to his stomach, and so counted each and every cloud as it passed by.

He turned to his left and stared at the passenger beside him. The detective took in the young boy's ruffled hair. The boy's hair, however, seemed to be saying "I meant to make it look like this," unlike L's own "I never brush my hair in the morning" look.

He took in the boy's face, calm and peaceful. The boy beside him had never before looked so calm; his face was always lining with a mixture of stress and agitation.

The detective watched the boy's chest rise and fall slowly, in a rhythmic pattern. Said detective marveled at this simple act of breathing, of watching this boy's respiratory system keeping the boy alive. The detective was sure if he leaned closer to the boy, he could hear the other involuntary action in the human body-a heartbeat. The detective stayed away from that, though, and instead continued to watch the boy breathe.

The detective, who had been sitting as he always did, with his knees tucked up towards his chest, began feeling a bit uncomfortable. As he adjusted his legs, however, he heard a soft tinkling noise. It was only then that the detective noted the five meter chain and the handcuff around his wrist. Following the chain links, he eventually led to the wrist of the boy next to him, whose wrist was also bound with a handcuff.

The detective, now comfortable, had gone back to watching the boy breathe. After a moment, however, said boy opened one of his eyes-_amber_, the detective noted, _like a cat's_- and stared sleepily at the detective.

"L," the boy muttered, still half-asleep, "why are you watching me sleep?"

L put his thumb in his mouth and chewed for a moment, considering his answer. "I'm not watching you sleep, Light," he said after a moment. "I'm watching you breathe."

Even drowsy, L noted the boy's-Light's-ability to look exasperated. "It's a necessary thing, breathing," he said, and closed his eyes again. "Try not to stop me from doing, it, L."

L, now fascinated by his thumb, didn't notice the boy's return to slumber. Assuming he was still conscious, L asked, "Light, why am I here?" After a moment with no reply, he turned away from his thumb, only then realizing Light had nodded off again.

L turned back to the window, though not counting the clouds. He'd lost track in his fascination with Light's breathing, and didn't want to start over. Instead, he considered his situation, and his options for getting out of said "situation." He was on a plane, flying away from his investigation team, his computer, his favorite bakery where they made the delicious chocolate cupcakes-in short; L was leaving behind everything he knew from his time in Japan. He was, instead, on an airplane without an investigation team, his computer had been confiscated due to its having "too many secrets about foreign governments,"-"It's for national security," the captain had said, snatching away L's laptop-and he was eating his thumb, not the frosting of a cupcake.

If all that wasn't bad enough, he was flying to _America_, of all places. America, also known as the "land of opportunity." If Light hadn't been asleep, L would have snorted at the notion. Instead, he was content to roll his large eyes. "Land of opportunity." What nonsense. "America: Land of McDonald's, fast food, and self-righteous people," would have been a better slogan. Although, L supposed, "land of opportunity" made for better PR.

Like most difficulties in his life, L could trace this problem back to Light's "girlfriend," Amane Misa. Misa had-allegedly-been offered a walk-on role on "_America's Next Top Model."_ Never mind that Misa wasn't an American citizen, of course. The Americans had evidently forgotten another one of those pesky details that would ruin their ultimate goal.

Anyway, Misa, being the type of girl that she was, had of course leapt at the chance to be on an American television show. Even L himself had been pleased at the news. Taping for said American television show was supposed to take six weeks, and anything that would get "that cooing mess"-as L fondly referred to Misa as-out of his messy and unkempt hair was just fine with L.

Misa, however, had to spoil L's six weeks of peace and quiet. Her "weapon of mass destruction"? The "love of her life," Yagami Light.

Who happened to be attached by a metal chain to L.

Which meant that L needed to be within ten meters of Light at all times, no matter how irritating or uncomfortable.

Which meant that L was now on a plane to America, whether he liked it or not.

As far as his master schemes went, L mused, this was not one of his finest. In fact, this metal chain was really, _really_ inconvenient to both his mental and physical state of being.

So now, L was not a happy detective.

It was bad enough, to sum up, that L was hurtling twenty thousand feet up in the air to a land he didn't care for, with people he didn't care for, and without the two things he _did_ care for. (Those things, of course, being America, Misa, Light, his laptop, and his bakery, respectively.)

All that was bad enough, yes-but honestly, did they really have to make him fly _coach_?


	2. Chapter 2

-Insert a Clever Title Here-

By: KitKat411

"We will now begin to prep for landing. Please return to your seats, return your trays to their original position, and fasten your seatbelts. To the young man in 26A, please put your feet down-the "knees tucked into ones chest" stance is not appropriate for landing. Flight attendants, please stop hitting on the wealthy old men in first class and return to your seats. If I, your pilot, become suicidal and attempt to crash the plane in the Pacific Ocean, kindly help yourself before assisting others. Thank you, and please enjoy the rest of your flight."

Yagami Light-former straight-A student, now under suspicion for mass murder-stretched, looking forward to finally getting off this plane. He'd been cramped between Misa and L for too long; he was nearly suffocating from the strange idiosyncrasies between the two of them. Instead, he placed his tray in its upright position, buckled his seatbelt, smiled at the stewardesses, and tried not to kill either of his two "friends."

The plane landed in due course, of course, landing in Los Angeles approximately two hundred minutes behind schedule. After waiting in the crowded, smelly airplane while everyone in front of them exited first, Misa, Light, and L-Watari, Light's father, and the rest of the investigation team were still in Japan-finally left and stepped onto American soil.

Well, American carpet. But said carpet was filthy enough to be considered "soil."

Misa-who had spent the plane ride in the most agony-nearly, flattened the two boys in her quest out the airplane. She ran into the Los Angeles airport and jumped in the air like a small child in a candy store. (Or, more accurately, like L in his favorite bakery when the chocolate cupcakes were fresh). Laughing, she pointed at things, shouting, "Light! Light! AMERICA!"

…And while the Starbucks did not mind being pointed at, Light was sure the overweight couple did. "Misa," he muttered to his girlfriend, putting his arm around her in an attempt to calm her down, "relax. Stop pointing at…things. You'll scare people."

It was only at this moment that L, who had been watching this exchange, began to notice a problem. Misa and Light were speaking Japanese. And while L was thirty-four percent sure Light was halfway competent at English, Misa was not.

Which would pose a problem, since the only one who knew no English was the only one appearing on the American television program.

L approached the two of them, and asked in perfect English, "Do you understand what I am saying?"

And with their confused faces, L was immediately grateful for his London schooldays. It seemed he was the only one able to guide the three of them. He informed the two of them of t his, and Misa grew angry at once.

"Well, that's not fair!" She whined, stomping her foot. "I wanted to talk to the American people. I wanted to see what life in America's like…" she trailed off, "…Oh! And where that girl got her skirt. Excuse me."

The two boys watched as Misa approached the trio of skirt-wearers. The first two seemed utterly indifferent to Misa's excited giggling, but the third seemed enthralled. Misa hugged this third person and dashed back to Light and L.

"Light!" She squealed, utterly delighted. "America's great! Those first two girls were really snotty, but the third girl was so nice! Did you see? She hugged me! I love America!"

Light and L exchanged looks. "Misa…" Light said, and paused. After a moment, he continued. "Misa, that third person…The one in the skirt and blonde hair and mascara…The one you hugged…"

"Yes! Isn't she great?"

"…Misa, that wasn't a woman."

As Misa's eyes grew wide enough to rival L's, said detective shrugged and walked towards the baggage cart. "Welcome to America."

Misa and Light looked at each other and followed the hunchbacked man in front of them.

"Welcome to America," indeed.


End file.
